From a High Place
From A High Place
On the street look up,
And see the high steeple,
Run inside, take the lift,
With all the working people.
Up up up to the 50th floor,
Through opulence, old wood,
Marble walls, a temple
To businesshood.
Look down from the window
In quiet contemplation,
Way over the steeple now of
Those in meditation.
The little church struggles for funds,
Swallowed from years of beanstalk choking,
By those who heard its love,
Their greed its hymns now revoking.
High high were the dreams encouraged,
From the little steepled pews,
Those who learned in it, reaped its love.
Have dwindled to too few.
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